


Third Time is the Charm

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:03:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9497255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: During renowned wizarding barrister Hermione Granger’s well deserved vacation, legislation passes requiring Muggle-borns to produce magical children or give up their wands.





	

“Ginny never hears about this,” Harry said darkly as he slipped out of the room, plucking at the neck of his robes.

 

Sun leaked from the crack in the linen curtains to flash on the wall and the air was heavy, like something sad had happened and the very weight of it hung forever suspended by the streaks of daylight piercing the room. Hermione suspected it was the death of her friendship with Harry Potter lingering.

 

Sticky with the sweat of late afternoon sex in a stagnant room, Hermione abandoned the bedclothes and slowly made her way to the bathroom. She might have cried, but she’d been crying for a week and her well was simply dry.

 

Harry had been a true friend. Hermione wouldn’t dishonor him by asking him for anymore favors – including being in the same room with her. She’d asked the unthinkable of him. It didn’t matter that he could have said no.

 

Hermione ran cold water in the sink and held her hands in it, not really feeling its chill.

 

Remaining in the Wizarding world was worth it, wasn’t it?

 

Until she’d received that letter from Hogwarts, her life had been tragically predictable. Hermione was another trophy that her parents occasionally dusted off for dinner parties. When that letter arrived bearing her name, her universe had changed. And, at Hogwarts, she made friends.

 

Hermione loved that magic existed. She loved that she was a witch. Losing her wand would be like losing her mind.

 

The cool water was refreshing on her face.

 

**_Three weeks later._ **

 

“I’ve had mild headaches most afternoons,” Hermione said.

 

“No significant changes in your diet?”

 

Hermione shook her head and the Muggle doctor skimmed the papers in his hand.

 

“Your blood work shows some unusual readings – nothing concerning – are you taking any medications or drugs?”

 

“No, I’m not taking anything – is that all?” Hermione snapped. She’d been unable to sleep or eat for two months. “It’s not possible I’m pregnant?”

 

The doctor shook his head, “No, Miss. But, I can prescribe something for your headaches if you like.”

 

“No, thank you,” Hermione replied softly, crestfallen. She’d been sure that she was pregnant.

 

In a blur, Hermione got dressed and she made her way to The Unplottable, a disreputable tavern in Knockturn Alley. 

 

It was a bad decision, but Hermione needed to distance herself from the sick disappointment curdling her stomach. She’d sacrificed her best friend in a gamble that she might become pregnant with a magical child.

 

The Unplottable’s bartender was surprisingly personable. Hermione was relieved to hide herself in a corner and drink as long as full tumblers appeared in front of her. After her wish to suffer internal torment was sated, she noticed that she’d drawn someone’s attention.

 

Lucius Malfoy sat at the opposite end of the bar – there was no mistaking that white-blond hair even through the haze of blackberry rum. The wizard was alone. He watched her as close as she watched him.

 

A ridiculous idea involving the attractive, older wizard had just begun spinning in Hermione’s inebriated brain when it was interrupted.

 

“Well, well,” said a deep voice.

 

Hermione peered at the wizard leaning heavily on the bar beside her and her spirits lifted to find a familiar face.

 

“Cormac!” she grinned.

 

Cormac’s chiseled, wide features split in an answering grin.

 

“A little drunk, are we?” he chuckled.

 

Hermione ignored the opportunistic hand sliding suggestively down her back.

 

“A bit,” she replied. Her memory dredged up that Cormac liked her – wanted her.

 

“Married yet?” he asked with a poorly-concealed peek down her robes.

 

“Not even close,” she replied.

 

“You’re Muggle-born aren’t you?” he asked, eyes shining.

 

“S’right.”

 

 “Preggers yet?”

 

“You cut right to the chase, don’t you?” she slurred and tipped back her glass, emptying it.

 

“I read about your big trial – you disappeared after it and that law passed quicker than a Snitch,” he said.

 

The reminder stung. Hermione felt tears well in her eyes. She’d thought she was done crying!

 

“My client was foolish, but it turned out I was the fool.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“He told his Muggle relatives how to get into Diagon Alley – they tried to get in – things got a bit out of hand…” Hermione sighed. “I had no idea what I was getting myself into defending him… And I never should have left like that afterwards… The moment I did, the Ministry came up with that ridiculous...legislation.”

 

“I heard rumors about that,” Cormac admitted.

 

“That if I hadn’t disappeared, the law would never have passed?”

 

The wizard nodded and Hermione growled.

 

“You must have upset someone,” Cormac said, startling Hermione with his astute summation.

 

“That’s been my theory,” she muttered.

 

“How about I cheer you up?”

 

“Yeah? How are you going to do that?” she asked, smirking because there was absolutely no couth way for a wizard to proposition a witch. But then, Cormac was not – had never been – _couth_.

 

“Let’s go make a magic baby.”

 

As Hermione shrugged into her cloak, she caught sight of Lucius Malfoy again. He wore an infuriatingly knowing grin. She fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him as she followed Cormac out of the tavern.

 

**_Three weeks later._ **

 

Another uncomfortable gown, another cold examining table; the only thing different was that Hermione had chosen to see a Healer rather than a Muggle doctor.

 

“The diagnostic spell reveals a trace of tentacula in your system – if you’re taking it for contraceptive reasons, I can demonstrate several charms that will work without giving you  headaches.”

 

“But-but I’m not taking anything – especially for _contraceptive_ reasons!” Hermione sputtered.

 

“Venomous tentacula seeds are often ground and used in contraceptive potions. No other uses come immediately to mind – are you taking any potions?”

 

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face as she shook her head. She felt ill. Someone, _somehow_ , had been slipping her contraceptive potions - for months. Someone that wanted her banished to the Muggle world…

 

A few hours later found Hermione in The Unplottable once more. She was surrounded by empties and idly rolling her wand back and forth between her hands. She was contemplating snapping it.

 

“I don’t believe that’s proper wand care.”

 

“Bugger off,” Hermione mumbled. She gave a miserable sigh as the wizard sat down.

 

“At least allow me buy you a drink, first,” was the amused reply.

 

Hermione found Lucius Malfoy beside her and huffed.

 

“Don’t tell me you want to ‘make a magic baby,’ too?”

 

He lifted an elegant brow. “That particular phrase would never cross my mind.”

 

Hermione’s sarcastic snort turned into a giggle. She caught herself and rested her head on her palm.

 

“That was funny,” she sighed. “Know what else is funny? You’ll appreciate this,” she muttered. “Ground venomous tentacula seeds are a main ingredient of contraceptive potions.”

 

Hermione was too self-absorbed to notice that Lucius went still for a moment at her words.

 

“I can help you,” he purred.

 

Hermione peered at him through a haze. She’d seen him before. At the Unplottable. Had he been watching her?

 

“Why would you want to do that?” she asked bitterly.

 

“Does it matter?”

 

For one, short moment, Hermione was able to look Lucius in the face through the alcohol-induced fuzz.

 

“Yes,” she replied.

 

The wizard’s face was the same mask she’d seen at countless trials and meetings but there was something in his eyes that bewildered her. He leaned nearer and their unfriendly chat became instantly intimate.

 

“No, it doesn’t,” he hissed.

 

“Don’t think I’m ignorant of your part in this ridiculous law,” Hermione muttered, distracted by his nearness.

 

“I wouldn’t call it ridiculous,” Lucius disdained, lips brushing Hermione’s temple as he spoke.

 

Giddy heat rushed through Hermione. Neither Harry nor Cormac had made her body tingle like Lucius was.

 

“Why did you do it, Lucius? It’s ruined my life,” Hermione admitted, drunk and beyond emotional control.

 

Lucius’ wand was suddenly in his hand and he easily maneuvered Hermione to her feet. He tossed several Sickles onto the bar.

 

“Let’s see about the tentacula, shall we?”

 

Hermione allowed the wizard endless liberties out of sheer curiosity. Side-along Apparition brought them to Malfoy Manor. Lucius led Hermione through a garden and French doors to an airy parlor. A set of potions equipment and ingredients sat suspiciously convenient on a sofa table. Hermione noted it but said nothing. She leaned in the doorway while Lucius set a potion to brewing.

 

“A draught of Re’em blood will null the tentacula,” he murmured, setting the cauldron to simmer with a subtle swish of his wand.

 

“How long will that take?” Hermione asked flatly.

 

“Moments,” Lucius replied.

 

He tracked Hermione’s hand as she drew her wand.

 

“You did this – all of this,” she said, choking on the anger rising in her throat.

 

The wizard betrayed nothing.

 

“You forced that law when I got some idiot wizard out of trouble because his Muggle relatives did something stupid,” she anguished as subconscious sparks fell from her wand. “And the tentacula – you slipped me that, too – didn’t you?”

 

“Blaming me doesn’t change your situation,” he said coolly.

 

“But why, Lucius?”

 

The wizard’s pale eyes left Hermione’s wand tip and traveled up her arm to her face. Finally, an emotion rose in him.

 

“If I wanted the world rid of you, there are several, more direct means,” he snarled. “Put that away.”

 

Hermione dropped her arm, shocked.

 

“If you draw your wand on me again, be prepared for consequences,” he warned and then turned back to the cauldron.

 

“But, why the legislation?” she asked after a moment.

 

“I believe in what I am – what we are and what we can be.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

The wizard finally procured a dipper and measured some steaming, black potion into a cup.

 

“It means that I am a wizard and I dislike wizards that betray our secrets to Muggles,” he said plainly.”Clearly, my way of life is more important to those that share it.”

 

He held out the cup and Hermione took it, conflicted by Lucius’ actions and words. She swirled the cup, examining the texture of the concoction. It was made up of dubiously thick and thin liquids. Her stomach tightened in dread.

 

“If you want any ‘magic babies,’ you’ll drink it,” Lucius advised.

 

Hermione shot Lucius a look but was intrigued by the new thoughts he was creating in her mind. In Hermione’s hand was the way to retain her wand. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and tossed back the contents of the cup. It tasted worse than she’d imagined it would. She barely managed to keep the syrupy liquid down and ignore the saltiness of the blood.

 

“Do you intend to help me in any other way?” she asked after an indelicate wiping of her mouth.

 

“What do you have in mind?” Lucius asked, looking entirely too like the Kneazle that caught the owl.

 

“Muggle doctors have a way of fertilizing eggs with sperm-”

 

“Absolutely not!” Lucius roared.

 

“Because it’s a _Muggle_ method?” Hermione sneered, drawing upon nastiness to hide her sudden hopelessness.

 

“Because any child of mine will have a father.”

 

“But – but I don’t want to _marry you_ ,” Hermione laughed, amused by the absurd idea.

 

The quirk of Lucius’ eyebrow said it all. “Suit yourself.”

 

“Surely you don’t want to marry _me_ ,” Hermione countered.

 

Lucius said nothing.

 

“You’re mad,” she huffed.

 

“My children will know their father,” he repeated.

 

“And I certainly can’t hold that against you,” Hermione snapped.

 

“Time is short, Hermione,” he said softly.

 

There was more – there was so much more that it sickened her. Lucius was holding back his reasons. The wizard was the wiliest of the lot and did nothing without motivation or gain.

 

“Politics?” Hermione asked.

 

“Perhaps.”

 

“What else is there?” she demanded.

 

Lucius swept close and Hermione’s heart skipped. What was he doing? Something inside of her knew and she trembled. It was as if all the alcohol in her system evaporated – she was suddenly stone sober.

 

Hands on her hips guided her backwards and Hermione felt a wall meet her back. She gasped as the hands slid familiarly up her ribs. When Lucius wet his lips, Hermione held her breath; he was going to kiss her and she was terrified.

 

“It’s simple, Hermione,” Lucius whispered, looking oddly vulnerable. “I’ve wanted you for a very long time.”

 

A hand cupped Hermione’s neck and fingers curled around her jaw; his thumb swept hypnotically over her bottom lip.

 

“And I do whatever it takes to get what I want.”

 

“The tentacula,” Hermione groaned, furious but powerless in his arms.

 

“Of course,” he replied, finally leaning in to capture her lips.

 

Hermione could not deny the desire blossoming within her for Lucius. His touch coaxed tendrils of yearning in her that she’d never felt before. When she allowed her mouth to relax and parted her lips for the wizard’s tongue, a sweet pang of fire burst through her body.

 

So, he’d slipped her contraceptive potions. Hermione was guilty of capturing a witch in a jar and blackmailing her. Were they so different?

 

As the hem of Hermione’s robes rose and a warm hand slipped around her thigh, Hermione surged with the surety that she would be with this man.

 

“Promise me one thing, Lucius,” she gasped as fingers dipped under the elastic of her knickers.

 

“Name it,” was the breathy reply against her neck.

 

His meaning and passion sent fresh heat through her. Hermione almost forgot what she wanted.

 

“Never lie to me, again,” she said.

 

Lucius lifted his head and looked her in the eye. “As you wish.”

 

**_Three weeks later._ **

 

Hermione left St. Mungo’s bearing a book titled “What Witches Expect When Expecting.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted: August 3, 2009  
> Pairing: Hermione: /Harry, /Cormac, /Lucius  
> Warnings: Angst, adultery, alcohol  
> Beta: sweettiff14  
> A/N: Written for the Granger Enchanted Owl Post FQF. Prompt: Hermione must get pregnant! Why?? Looks like she doesn’t have a shortage of volunteers, though! (Multi-partner)


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